A Time Ago
by Yokokitsu
Summary: A collection of stories concerning the members of Akatuski - past and present. Pairings such as Zetsu/Tobi, KisaIta, and OroKabu, but others as well. Each entry was written and concerns a time ago.
1. Knowing He Was Right

He would never tell Hidan, of course, but Kakuzu truly didn't want to die. He was convinced that the impossible was never really that, and if the goddamned idiot was immortal, then perhaps his god _did_ exist.

Kakuzu didn't want to give the jackass the pleasure of knowing he was right.

Life was something constant and unchanging… like money. 700 years of it and everything still felt the same as it had at 80 – old. What difference could the afterlife make? What could it hold for him?

The closest he could ever get to heaven was pulling it further away from his partner. Nirvana was flashing violet eyes and unkempt silver locks. Paradise was made of deep scratches and uninhibited, keening noises from beneath him.

Life was, on the other hand, "I don't fuck you for your pride, you old shit. My body needed this, and Jashin shames us."

Throw in a few insults to feed the monotony of it all.

Kakuzu knows that when he's threatened, he's not in danger. "I should kill you, you bastard! Always saying my god's a farce - Lord Jashin condemns your sins!"

Those angry violet orbs… But Hidan doesn't _want_ to kill him, though he's the only one who could.

That afterlife doesn't exist, Kakuzu knows this.

Hidan doesn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he was right.


	2. Leather

Many people didn't believe that Orochimaru would spoil anyone beyond his own self. But those people didn't live in the Hidden Village of Sound. Their master could be quite generous, given the correct circumstances.

He was charitable in his good moods, indulgent towards the servants, benevolent to the slaves.

The fact that Orochimaru had lost his arms just slightly dampened his disposition.

"Kabuto, I'm told you destroyed the gloves that I gave you." Ah, that the eyes of a snake were so mesmerizing.

"Y-yes, Lord Orochimaru." Kabuto was at a loss, drowning in the decadence of the Sannin's gaze, but aware that the pain he was in was impossible to imagine. The medic shuddered at having to even attempt it.

And yet, his lord managed to maintain both his kingdom and gorgeous looks.

"I'm sorry – I know they were expensive, but it was a fierce battle." Kabuto was lying through his teeth. He had escaped a majority of the skirmishes with Leaf-nin; the gloves had been torn on a tree branch on the way home.

Still, it was a bad idea to let that bit of info slip.

"Will I be replacing them, my lord?"

"No, you needn't worry about that." The voice was slick and oily, seductive to the very core. "I have your new pair right here."

A slave appeared from the shadows behind Orochimaru's chair, producing a small black box. "Here, Kabuto-kun, take them."

The medic glanced down at the proffered cuffs and started. "B-but these are..!" For a moment, his spy's mask had broken.

"Yes," the other answered, accentuating the 's' in a prolonged hiss, "the finest leather, from the fattest cattle in Grass Country. Perhaps they will assist you in your nocturnal diversions..?"

That smirk!

Kabuto composed his features, set the façade in place. His expression was blank, telling nothing. "Of course, Lord Orochimaru."

When dismissed from the snake-nin's chambers, he fled through the hallways, as dignified as he could manage. '_Damn him! Damn him and his snakes!'_

In the other room, the master grinned – all-knowing – lording over his pawn. Yes, his little slave, his favorite. How could Kabuto-kun know just how much _was_ seen by the Sannin?

But, Orochimaru was not as omniscient as he thought. For how could he know that he was Kabuto's every thought, the goal of his every endeavor? That those nightly romps in the lab were all for him?

Still, how could either know that those gloves would last longer than Sasuke's departure in his memory? Far outlive his master and lover?


	3. Gentlemanly Regret

Zetsu was a gentleman.

Few saw the carefully concealed chivalry the rogue-nin hid so jealousy from the world at large, though he believed it to be clear as the sunlight in which he seemed to thrive. He made certain that his killings were neat and precise – nothing extraneous to call attention to such a duty. No unsightly remains were to be left wasted upon the living earth; nothing could be left behind to mar the natural indentations of paths through the valleys and forests. Yes, in his own mind, Zetsu was the most refined of the Akatsuki.

As a polite man's duty, therefore, he watched stoically the lives of men unfolding about him. A covert glance from partner to partner, betrayed allegiances to both heart and organization, an unexpected death of the supposed immortal… All things were par for the course when dealing with men whose fates were slowly becoming ever-more intertwined. 

But most painfully, Zetsu had seen Deidara. He had catalogued secret smiles and disguised chuckles unintended from the very first introduction, when the plan had been much simpler. Zetsu had decried every laugh and childish comment bestowed upon the ambitious sculptor as part of the deception, and sleight of hand to be revealed not a moment too soon.

Tobi's light, Madara's ever present mask, belonged exclusively to _him!_

Time had once witnessed a time where Zetsu needed no one to entertain him. He had amused himself with such gentlemanly hobbies as books and tales – stories of a past in which he'd played no part in shaping. When Tobi had come – had been assumed – he had remained unmoved as always.

Thus, it had come as a surprise when the joyously trumpeted _'Zetsu-san!' _ had become his reason to fight, to live.

But the black-haired guise had fallen for the blue-eyed artist; worse still, was that Deidara had been falling, too. Now, when both lay dead, both expendable in the great artistry of deception, Zetsu felt a regret not allowed a gentleman such as himself.

Zetsu is a gentleman, bereft of a love he had come to believe would remain forever corporeal. He will have to wait for the day it shall return – and Madara will have to choose.


End file.
